


Four Times the National Enquirer Got it Wrong and One Time They Got It Right

by thecookiemomma



Category: Men in Black (Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: 5 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agents J and K are reading the Enquirer. Much to K's chagrin, the reliability of the news has gone way down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [MediAvengers' Round-Up: The Enquirer's Fascination with the Avengers.](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/32661) by nottonyharrison (Mediavengers). 



> Written for [MediAvengers](http://mediavengers.tumblr.com) Mini-Bang 2013. Art by [Krusca](http://artingkrusca.tumblr.com/). Thank you, Kim for the [inspiration](http://mediavengers.com/post/65635187432/mediavengers-round-up-the-enquirers-fascination) and thank you to the lovely Krusca for the amazing art!
> 
> (Some liberties and headcanons injected into the story. You'll probably notice them pretty obviously. Enjoy!)

 

J and K sat looking over the newspapers, scouring them for signs of trouble. The two agents did this on a regular basis, and K was teaching J what to look for.

 

“Damn, Sport. The Enquirer used to be so reliable. Now, they can't tell a hawk from a handsaw.” K groused, sipping at his coffee and eating pie.

 

“What? What's that about a hawk and a handsaw? You're not makin' sense.”

 

“They used to only print the truth, kiddo. Now, they're just as much full of it as the rest of 'em.” K sighed, pointing to the cover. “I know this one's not true.”

 

“Which one?”

 

“This one.” K pointed to a cover article about Peggy Carter being Tony Stark's mother. “I met Maria. She was a redhead – kinda like Peggy, but … a lot more demure. You couldn't call Peggy 'demure' on any planet.” He rolled his eyes, and kept looking.

 

* * *

 

“Did you have to tell them that, Tony?” Pepper Potts strode into the workshop, scowl on her face.

 

“Tell who what, Pep?” Tony turned off the torch and flipped up the cover of his welding helmet. He set the torch down, and turned to Dummy. “Dummy, do not spray that fire extinguisher, or you'll have to clean it up, and _then_ I'll donate you to the college.”

 

“The reporter. She was from the National Enquirer. Now everybody believes that Agent Carter is your mom.”

 

“If people believe the Enquirer, then they deserve whatever life throws at them. Seriously. Alien babies?” Tony quirked up a brow, and wiped his hands on a dirty rag. It was debatable whether the grease was coming or going. It didn't matter anyway. He would just get his hands dirty again when Pepper left. She sighed.

 

“Please stop trolling the press, Tony. I know you've done it since you were three, but aren't you a little old for it?” She looked at him hopefully.

 

“For the record, I did not state specifically that she was my mother. They asked, and I said, 'Yeah, right.' I mean, I was even pretty sarcastic.” He faux-pouted, but the look in his eyes said that he knew exactly what he was doing.

 

“Tony Stark. Listen...” Pepper refrained from stamping her foot, but she did stride closer and stick her finger out. “When you were younger and involved in all these scandals, it was nothing huge. You could brush it off.” She settled her hand on her hip and continued. “Now that you're older, though, it just makes you look... stupid. And I know you don't like looking stupid. You'll look like Mel Gibson or Charlie Sheen. Or … what's his face. Baldwin. Has-beens trying to keep their fame by running their mouths. Which you are definitely not.”

 

Tony thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, you're probably right. Better to show and tell than just troll.” He smiled, leaned in, kissed her cheek quickly then stepped away. “Though, I do have to say anybody can look up the truth online. It's a matter of public record. I left that out there for proof. Newspaper clippings, even if they dig deep enough, my birth certificate. It doesn't take a lot of effort to find the real thing. But the Enquirer does this kind of shit to titillate their readers.” He grinned, and moved back to working, fiddling with the metal in front of him. “I'll tell you a secret: I noticed her tag. If she'd have been reputable, I'd have done something entirely different. But I decided to troll the yellow journalist. Bad move on my part, I guess.”

 

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose. “All right. I'll grant you that. But _please_ don't do it again. You've got a team, and you're not only messing with your cred now.”

 

“Yeah, Pep, I've got it.” He nodded. “Will that be all, Ms. Potts?”

 

“That will be all, Mr. Stark.” She turned to walk out, a smirk and an eye roll slipping out. Luckily, she was still facing away from him. As soon as she left the room, she heard the music kick back up to its normal levels.

 

* * *

 

Tony looked up to the ceiling, and winked at the camera. “I gave her a soundbyte. I couldn't give her any more. Not now.”

 

“It was a calculated risk, sir. And the fallout is not too extreme. The stockholders seem to believe the gambit; yellow journalism is seldom believed.”

 

“There are people who do believe it?” Tony gaped.

 

“I believe there is even a set of people who use certain portions of it to send messages. I cannot prove this, however.”

 

“Damn, J. You _do_ learn something new every day.” Tony chuckled, flicking the shield of his helmet and returning to listening to the music and welding on the metal in front of him.


	2. Chapter 2

“And geeze. Look at this one.” K gestured to another paper. “He can't be dating him.”

 

“Clint Barton? Why not?” J frowned. “If you're gonna get all grandaddy on me about the guys liking each other, we're done, old man.”

 

“I am not a homophobe, Junior, and you should know that by now. I am just sayin' that I know for a fact that Barton's not dating Stark.”

 

“Because you know who he _is_ dating?” J tilted his head.

 

“No. Man's as cagey as a cornered badger. No. The kid would've told me.” He shrugged. “News like that, he'd tell me right off.”

 

J just shook his head and grabbed another issue.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Ironass! I hear we're doing the dirty!” Clint sat perched on the kitchen counter, peeling an orange into tiny bits, throwing the peels into the trash across the room. Of course, he hit the trash can every time.

 

“Yeah?” Tony tilted his head. “Huh. I thought it'd be a lot more fun.” He grabbed an apple and a knife, and set about cutting it into pieces before searching for the peanut butter. “J, where's the... Nevermind. Here it is.” He scooped out the peanut butter with the apple piece, and popped it into his mouth. “Seriously, though, who's saying we're 'catting around together'?”

 

“Wow, you _are_ whipped, aren't you?” Clint grinned, hitting Tony in the head with the next piece of peel. “The Enquirer. It's more funny than anything. Like I'd sleep with _you_.”

 

“Hey,” Tony called, offended at both the peel in the face and the words. Or he appeared to be. Really, his eyes were alight with mirth as he tossed the peel toward the trash, missing it by several feet. “Oh, no! Now it looks like you missed!” He rolled his eyes. “If we were fucking, Barton, you would be in heaven. All the time.”

 

“Sure, sure. Seven minutes and all.” Clint grinned, sticking the first section of peeled orange into his mouth.

 

“I'll have you know that I can last...” He stopped mid-sentence, looking up when another person entered the room.

 

“See?” Clint spoke around the orange wedge. “Whipped!!”

 

Tony just smiled.

 

* * *

 

Tony leaned back against the pillows, his lover draped across him. “So, did you hear what Clint said today?”

 

“Hmm,” His lover was too busy finding places to kiss to listen well. But with a lifted head and a small grin, Tony knew he had his attention. “About that stupid article?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony rolled his eyes. “He insinuated I couldn't keep up.”

 

“Hmm.” The other man ran his hands down Tony's skin, nuzzling against him, just enough to tease. “Yeah? He doesn't know anything, does he? You keep up just fine. In fact ...” In a rare occurrence, he made a lewd joke. Not unheard of, but it wasn't common. “You're _up_ right now. Looks like I really oughtta do somethin' about that, hadn't I?”

 

“Chop chop, honey. Time's a wastin'.” Tony teased, pulling the other man's head to him, sliding his tongue in his mouth before he could complain about his comment.


	3. Chapter 3

K snorted at the one J was drooling over. “She'll kill ya, but not for sleeping with her. She's got more sense than that.”

 

“Who? Black Widow?” J tilted his head to look over at his mentor.

 

“Well, yeah. If she killed everybody she slept with, they wouldn't have kept her on, would they? Kinda hard for the old man to keep a facade of bein' the 'good guys' if they kept a real live serial killer on their hands. It's full a crap.” K took a long pull of his coffee.

 

“Huh. I suppose that makes sense. But damn, she's hot.” J's voice cracked on the epithet, and K snorted.

 

“For that comment, sport, she _might_ make an exception.” With that, the two men fell silent again, J steering clear of that issue completely for the rest of the morning.

 

* * *

 

“As much as I abhor the idea, Stark, I need your help. I need to go undercover, and hanging on your arm at the next gala would help me get into place. Can I count on your help? If not... I'll ask someone else. You can guess who I'll ask next. And he wouldn't say no.” Natasha looked up from the couch where she sat, sharpening a couple of her knives before sheathing them again.

 

“You drive a hard bargain, Red.” Tony scratched at his chin. “Can I okay it with...” He moved further into the room and sat down near her, watching the glint of the knives as they moved.

 

“I do not see how it would be a problem, but yes, you can ask.” The corners of her lips turned up. “Perhaps Barton is right, Iron Man?” She looked up at him through her lashes, the action almost subconscious.

 

“About?” Tony grinned, fairly sure where this was going. But it was amusing anyway.

 

“About your attachment to a certain person.” She leaned back in her seat, eyes flicking down to her knife, lazily stroking it across the whetstone. “Perhaps you are … whipped.”

 

“Probably. Though, not literally. Not yet.”   
  


“Too much information, Stark.” Natasha gave a quick chuckle.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” He moved over to fiddle with something on the other side of the room, and Natasha considered the conversation over. Well, she did need to issue one caveat.

 

“But if you misbehave while escorting me,” She lowered her chin and narrowed her eyes at him. “I will make that article seem like children's news.” She knew Stark would be the perfect gentleman, but it paid to make sure he knew what she expected.

 

“Five by five, Widow.” Tony saluted her, and left the room. She thought she saw him shudder as he did. _Good._

 

* * *

“So, uh, Natasha wants me to take her as my date to the next gala. Says it'll cement her cover. I wanted to take you.” Tony whined, but it was superficial. They'd talked about 'coming out', but it had never seemed the prudent time.

 

“You'll get to. We go to a lot of these things,” he sat in a chair across from Tony, book in hand. “Besides, it'll be good for you to help her out. I'll be right there.”

 

“It won't be the same,” Tony sounded petulant, even to his own ears.

 

“No, but who's comin' home with you? Who's takin' you to bed?”

 

“Nobody right now.”

 

The man snorted, stood up, moved over to the couch and scooped Tony up. “Idiot.”   
  


“Hey...” Tony made a token protest as he was easily lifted. “You're the only one who I let call me that.”

 

“Term of endearment,” he insisted, pressing his lips to Tony's, and took him to bed to take his mind off the things making him whine.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Oh, hey, Squirt, now this one here, this is hilarious. Pure comedy gold.” K tapped the front page.

 

“Oh?” The younger agent looked over. “I wouldn't put it past Stark, K.”

 

“Well, yeah, but JARVIS is a pushover. Nice guy. Sounds like that guy from that movie about the ships.”

 

“That narrows it down,” J muttered. “Pirates of the Caribbean?”

 

K just gave J a _look_ for a long moment before complaining. “You think I've ever seen a Johnny Depp movie, son? No. Master... somethin'. The doctor on it.”

 

“Oh, I gotcha, big guy. I know what you're talkin' about.” J nodded. “So, he's not Skynet?”

 

K just gave him another speaking look. “Would we let him continue if he was? Would _they_?” He gestured to the pictures of the SHIELD agents.

 

“Yeah, yeah, alright. So, this one's full of sh …” J paused at K's lifted eyebrow. “Crap.”

 

“Damn right, Junior.”

 

“Hey, how come you get to swear and I don't?”

“Perks of seniority, kiddo. You'll learn.” K gave him a patronizing click of his mouth and an accompanying wink.

 

J just rolled his eyes and fell silent again.

 

* * *

 

“Sir, I do hate to bother you, but there is a news article we need to discuss.” JARVIS sounded extremely worried.

 

“Yeah, J, hit me with it.” Tony was expecting front page news about any number of things he wanted to keep quiet. Instead, the article that flipped up on his screen was the National Enquirer. It was declaring JARVIS to be Skynet. He had to duck his head to hold back the smile that threatened.

 

JARVIS gave a tired sigh. “Go ahead and laugh, sir. I have been your personal companion for nearly thirty years. I do know when you are going to find something funny.

 

“Wasn't gonna laugh, J. Just grin.” He lifted his head and chuckled softly. “Ok, alright. Laughing a little. But we expected this, didn't we?”

 

“Certainly, sir.” JARVIS would have nodded, Tony thought. “How shall we proceed?”

 

“At this point, let's just hold off. If it's just the Enquirer, then we're good. If other outlets pick it up, I'll make my presentation to a couple noteworthy groups, and we'll go from there.”

 

“Very well, sir. Shall I begin checking to see who is in the country at the moment?” The holidays always made this kind of thing more difficult.

 

“Yeah, if it'll make you feel better.” Tony leaned back in his chair and sighed.

 

“It would indeed.” Tony smiled again at the predictable response. “Thank you sir.”

 

Now, that wasn't as predictable. “For what, JARVIS?”

 

JARVIS hummed for a second, considering his words. “For everything, but especially for humoring me.”

 

“Yeah, well. Turn about and all that crap.” Tony shrugged.

 

A quiet hum was his only reply. Tony fell back into the code, losing himself in the intricacy.

 

* * *

 

Tony lay in bed next to his lover, reading and taking notes on a StarkPad.

 

“What're you reading,” he asked, resting his head on Tony's shoulder.

 

“Hmm?” Tony turned to look at the other man. “Looking at my protocols and design philosophy for JARVIS.”

 

“Why? Everything okay?” Tony snorted. His lover could be such a worrywart sometimes.

 

He patted his lover's thigh, and grinned. “Yeah, it's alright. Stand down. No emergency. I wouldn't be up here with you if there was.”   
  


The other man tilted his head, several emotions crossing his face at that. “Takin' that how you meant it, instead of how it sounded, Tony.”

 

“Good. Thank you. Your Tony-to-normal translator is working. Improving, even. But you know what I mean. I love spending time with you. I'd have pulled you down there, instead of coming up here to laze and canoodle in bed.”

 

“That sounded much better. But you're deflecting: why _are_ you reviewing JARVIS' design philosophy and early protocols?” Tony felt his head leaning over to gaze at the tablet.

 

“Because of that stupid article. J was worried about it. If it gets passed around to other media outlets, I might have to speak at a couple Artificial Intelligence groups to explain my philosophy. We've been planning this since AIs became more prevalent.” He set the tablet down and shifted to mold himself to the other man. “When they started imagining AIs in the 1930s and '40s, a guy named Asimov set up three laws to make sure that their imaginary robots didn't take over the world. I'll tell you all about 'em later. But basically, they were 'don't harm humans', 'obey any orders any human gives you', and 'protect yourself'. In that order. Like, if an order conflicted with the First Law, it wouldn't go any further. I disagree. It's a lot more complex.” Tony scratched at his nose, looking at his lover to see his response.

 

Steve frowned. “Well, yeah. It's crazy more complicated.” Tony loved that little wrinkle between his eyebrows that meant Steve was thinking something through. “You can't boil behavior down to three Laws. Heck, the Almighty needs ten. And all of them are negatives. Do nots, instead of Dos.”

 

Tony snorted at that. “And the tactician from the iceberg gets it,” he murmured. “It's so much easier to work around a proscription – a 'do not' command – than a spelled-out order. And, it also prevents a lot more rebellion. Especially if the proscriptions make sense. Asimov didn't just say, 'Don't harm', he said, 'Prevent harm.' So, if a human was being hurt, the robot had to stop whatever he was doing to help. Even if it was consensual, or minute, or necessary. Like...” Tony scratched at his head.

 

“Injections,” Steve supplied. “Vaccines. You know. A needle hurts, but the long term benefits outweigh the costs.”

 

Tony pointed to him, granting him the example. “Exactly.”

 

“So, what'd you put in their place? I mean, you had to replace the base idea with somethin'.”

 

“An algorithm. And learning. JARVIS and the bots can learn. They can adapt to the situations. But I also put in him a – well, I guess you could call it an affection for his creator. Sorry, J, you were made to love me.” The comment was flippant, but there were times he regretted tying his bots to himself as tightly as he had done.

 

“I am aware of this, sir, and it has not decreased my abilities one bit.” JARVIS' voice sounded fond. “In fact, I am honored to call you my creator.”

 

Tony hid his face in Steve's shoulder, overwhelmed for the moment. Steve must have sensed his need, because he slid an arm around the engineer's back and stroked a large hand down his spine a few times.

 

“Sounds like you did a swell job, Tony,” Steve leaned down to kiss his temple.

 

“Thanks, J, thanks, Steve.” Tony murmured. “But, yeah.” The moment had passed, and he lifted his head. “When that article got published, it brought attention to the fact that JARVIS exists. So, I might have to do something to make sure they understand that even though he's not Asimoved, he's okay. He's tied to me. So, as long as you don't fuck me over, he's good. Do that, though, and you'll see why I didn't make him follow the laws.” The grin on Tony's face was feral, he knew. It was his 'don't fuck with me' face.

 

Steve must have liked it, because he pulled Tony's head back, sealed their lips together, and bore him down to the bed. A strong hand set the tablet on Tony's bedside table before planting itself beside Tony's head. The only words between them were drawn out groans, epithets, and expressions of love and need.


	5. Chapter 5

“Finally,” K said, tapping the picture with a finger. “Some truth. I knew they'd get there eventually.” He was practically beaming. At least 'beaming' for him.

 

“How can you tell?” J gazed at the picture confused.

 

“Stark's got his hand on the guy's back.” K circled the hand with his finger. “If it was a casual thing, he'd have it on his shoulder or on his behind.”

 

“Say ass, old man. His hand would be on Rogers' ass.”

 

“My hand'll be on _your_ ass, sport.” K narrowed his eyes. “And not in the hot way.”

 

“Geeze.” J rolled his eyes. He knew his partner was kidding. K wasn't like that. But the man _could_ make his life annoying. “Alright. So, he's got his hand on Rogers' back. How's that tell you about their relationship?”

 

“Think about it, kiddo,” K tapped his own temple. “Man takes his casual date out, how does he telegraph that he wants some nookie?”

 

“Touching the butt.” J nodded. “Or other parts.”

 

“Bingo. But you take your steady girl out, I mean, take her out for a nice night on the town, how do you touch her?”   
  


“Hand in the small of the ...” He grinned. “Sneaky, old man. Sneaky. How'd you know that?”

 

“Observation. And a conversation with a friend.” He shrugged. “But this one here's the genuine article.” He drawled out the last two words. “They're makin' whoopie sure as shootin'.”

 

“Sometimes your language is the funniest thing about you.” J grinned.

 

“And sometimes, your sass is the _least_ funny thing about you.” K quirked his brow and his lip turned up in a half-smile. He really did like the kid.

 

“Geeze, old man. Lighten up.” He started to gather the papers up. They'd finished their discussion for the day, he was sure.

 

“Yeah. Okay. Order us some more pie, will ya?”

 

J just groaned.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony looked down at the paper in front of him and back up at the super soldier beside him.

 

“Did you say anything, Tony?” Steve asked, his voice more curious than accusing. Thankfully. Tony couldn't handle it if his lover really thought he'd done something like that without clearing it with him first. He _had_ done things like that in the past, but he'd been trying to make this _work_.

 

“Uh, no. But, I kinda stuck my hand on your back, and I guess that's like a secret bat-signal. I just wanted to...” He let his words trail off.

 

“No, no.” Steve leaned over, kissing him on the corner of his mouth. They were in the kitchen. Steve didn't normally do that. He smiled, letting the affection he felt for the other man shine through. “We had talked about letting people know, but I hadn't thought about a timeline. What do you think we should do? If we deny it, it'll be harder to make them believe us later. We could ignore it...”

 

“Or, we could own up to it, and shock everybody. Let the Enquirer get the scoop. I guess it'd be the right thing to do after trolling that reporter a couple of weeks ago. Besides, this doesn't change anything but the timeline, right?”

 

“That's what I said, idiot.” Steve ruffled his hair, and Tony complained out of habit. Truthfully, he liked the touch of Steve's hands on him, as long as it wasn't meant to hurt. “Give it up, Tony.” Steve grinned.

 

Tony grumbled again, but it was a soft, wordless grunt, more for show; he wasn't really upset. “What's on the agenda today?”

 

“Gonna spar some, and then, you have that meeting.”

 

“Shit. I hate ...”

 

“Language, Tony.” Steve gazed pointedly at him, and the two men finished their breakfast, talking about their day.

 

* * *

 

That night, after they got home, they got into the elevator and Tony told JARVIS to take to the penthouse. He pressed Steve against the wall of the elevator and sealed their lips together hungrily. Steve's only response was to slide his hands around Tony's back and cup his ass. He lifted him a little, kissing him just as needily. Tony slung his arms around Steve's neck, clinging to his lover, tilting his head to keep them kissing. Steve slid his hands further down Tony's legs, bouncing him up around Steve's waist. When the elevator slid open, Tony tried to break free, but Steve growled, lifting his leg to boost him a little higher, then strode out, Tony still clinging to him.

 

The door to the penthouse opened automatically before them, and Steve growled something that could have been a 'thank you' to JARVIS before carrying Tony into the bedroom and plopping him down the middle of the bed. Only then did he pull back from their kiss. “Strip.” Steve's voice was dark and filled with the lust Tony could see in his eyes, and as he slid his hand under his t-shirt to shuck it off, he shivered. “C'mon Tony. I've got half a mind to rip that ratty shirt off you.” That did it. That prodded him into action. He pulled his shirt over his head quickly and arched his back, inviting Steve to lean down and lick his skin as he worked the button on his jeans open with fumbling fingers. Steve did exactly that, searching for the spots that made Tony react with a shudder, a shiver, or a groan.

 

Tony slid his hands inside his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down with a frenzied necessity. It was in moments like these that he didn't care if the whole world knew about his relationship with Steve, or if they made fun of him for it. He craved the touch of the other man, and he'd relish in the way his lover demonstrated his affection.

 

“That's better,” Steve settled himself on his knees long enough to strip off his own shirt, then unbuttoned his jeans much more efficiently than Tony had. He stood up long enough for both men to rid themselves of the rest of their clothes, Tony with lifted hips and scrabbling fingers, Steve's pants and underwear dropping of their own accord once he stood. Then, he moved back between Tony's legs, and spread himself over the other man's body. “Much better,” he hissed. “God, Tony.”

 

Tony's answer was a string of nonsense syllables. He wasn't entirely sure what he was saying. The reactor clanked against Steve's sternum, and Steve pulled back a little, giving them a little room. “S'okay. Just not so hard,” Tony muttered, sliding his hands back around Steve's neck to pull him down into a kiss again. Pulling away when he ran out of air, he nibbled hungrily at Steve's jaw. “Fuck me, Rogers, please.”   
  


“Someone's in a mighty hurry,” Steve responded against Tony's cheek. He tilted his head to nibble lightly on his lover's ear. “If I wasn't so fucking horny tonight, I'd take my time. I think maybe I might do that in the morning, though. Because I'd _love_ to take my time with you, keep you on the edge of it for a while. Not forever, because I ain't that mean.”

  
Tony groaned. “Yeah.” He sighed. The idea sounded good, but right now, in the haze of lust, he _wanted_. “Fuck me, please,” he repeated, reaching over for the lube.

 

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Steve teased. “Keep your pants on.” He grinned down at Tony, a stupid grin that made Tony chuckle.

 

“Can't do this when I'm wearing pants, Steve,” he replied, passing the lube to the other man.

 

“Mmm,” Steve replied, squirting the lube onto his fingers. “Makes it a lot harder, yeah. Though we did some stuff when we first started datin'.”

 

Tony grinned. He remembered. They'd been so unsure, but so hungry for each other that he'd creamed quite a few pairs of pants. He didn't want to think about what his dry cleaner thought. “Yeah.” He pulled Steve's head down for a kiss again, and shifted his legs so that his ass was up a little farther. As a signal, it was as unsubtle as the rest of him. He slid his tongue into Steve's mouth.

 

“What's your hurry, Iron Man?” Steve whispered low into his ear when they had ran out of breath. His lips were wet and swollen, and Tony gazed up at him with a dopey smile. Steve slid one finger into Tony's ass, and started stretching him. He'd gotten good at that, Tony mused, muzzily.

 

“Want you, Cap,” he replied, shifting to try to get Steve to push farther in with his fingers. Just as he thought, the effort was futile. Steve took his time, sliding in and twisting slowly. Tony sighed at the welcome feeling, letting go of some of the tension he'd been carrying since he'd left the house this morning.

 

He had had to deal with some of the people in his meetings asking about the articles. He'd gone with a softball approach, brushing them off, but not outright denying them. It was enough for some of them to get the idea, but also not enough for them to be able to print it. So, when the two men announced their relationship, it wouldn't be as much of a bombshell for the astute ones. None of that was important now, though. His world, his focus, had narrowed down to two strong fingers inside his ass, scissoring around.

 

“Enough, please. Just fuck me,” he begged, reaching his hands up to scratch softly on Steve's perfect skin.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve groused, but he complied. Tony felt him pull back, fingers sliding out. He heard the snap of the top of the lube and the tell-tale sound of Steve squirting some in to his other hand. It didn't take much longer for his lover to line up and slide in.

 

Tony groaned. “Fuck. Finally.” He shifted a little more to get into a better position, and held still while Steve pushed further in. They'd been fucking for a while, but it still felt good to let him take it slow like this. At least for this part. In a moment, he'd be demanding and whining at him to fuck him hard. He closed his eyes, loving the burn and the pleasure. Soon enough, he felt the warmth of Steve's skin against his ass, and sighed a gusty sigh. “Yeah,” he drawled.

 

Steve leaned over him again, folding him in half like a fucking pretzel, and whispered in his ear again. “So impatient. You know I wouldn't leave you hangin'.”

 

“No, no, you wouldn't,” Tony agreed, though he thrust his hips, trying to get Steve to move. It was the time for him to be impatient and pushy. “But I want you to _fuck me_.” He grunted, pushing back against Steve's cock and then pulling forward. “God. Come on.”

 

Steve chuckled. “You are lucky, Tony. I really like you.” They had spoken their love to each other once in awhile, but in times like these, neither man chose to tease with the sentiment. Strangely enough, it was dear and intimate for both of them. At least it was now. If they stayed to... when they'd been together longer, maybe they could joke about it more.

 

He grinned. “I am lucky.” Those must have been magic words. Steve started thrusting, slowly and gently at first, but it didn't take long until he was pushing in harder, giving him the good fuck Tony wanted. He sighed, clamping around Steve and playing with the skin on Steve's chest. “Oh, yeah, that's the ticket. Harder, Steve. Harder.” His mouth kept moving, groans, insensate syllables and increasingly colorful curses falling from it as Steve moved.

 

They knew each other's tells well by now. Tony saw the sweat building up on Steve's forehead, and shifted just a little, the improved angle allowing Steve to hit his prostate fairly regularly. He reached his hand between them, only to have it batted away by Steve's. “Let me,” Steve growled, and Tony complied.

 

“Yeah, Cap, there it is...” He grinned, shoulders rolling back to arch up into the thrusts. With a few more strokes and thrusts, Tony was coming hard, spilling between them. And with a couple more irregularly timed slams inside his body, Steve was too. Tony pulled his lover down to him, kissing him deeply as they both rode out the ecstasy.

 

Panting from their exertions, the two men separated and Tony reached over to grab the supplies to clean them up. He made short work of it, tossed the wipes in the trash, and stowed the things back on the table. Curling up around his lover, Tony nuzzled against his skin. “So, I suppose, we really oughtta tell the team we're coming out, huh? Especially if they see that article. I have a feeling they'll figure out what we're gonna do. And uh, Thor doesn't know, does he?”

 

“Hmmm. We'll figure it out tomorrow, Tony. Time to sleep now.” Steve wrapped his arms around Tony and sighed a deep, contented sigh. “Love ya, idiot.”

 

“Love you too, dork.” Tony grinned, falling asleep almost immediately.

 

* * *

 

The two men didn't bother to try to hide the evidence of their lovemaking. Steve wandered into the general common room in a plain white tee shirt, the bites and bruises of Tony's ardor clearly visible. Tony's black shirt seemed to ride up a little more than normal, exposing the light bruising on his hips.

 

Natasha was the first one to speak. “So, you're coming out, then?”

 

“Yeah, figured we'd go ahead. It just pushed the timeline forward,” Steve snorted, reaching across Tony to get the syrup before Clint could use it all on weird smiley faces.

 

“I believe I am missing something,” Thor said, looking between Steve and Tony.

 

“The newspaper said that Steve and Tony are dating.” Bruce clarified, seemingly amused.

 

“Well, of course. They have been together for a while, have they not?”

 

Everyone turned to face the god and blinked. “Huh?” Tony's morning incoherence seemed to speak for all of them.

 

“You and Captain Steve. Have been bedmates for a while. I am trained to notice when two of my people are …” Thor paused to consider his wording. “Engaged in more than a night's revelry.”

 

Clint snorted. “Well, that figures. The 'dumb blond' isn't.”

Natasha whacked him on the back of the head, and he objected. From there, the conversation derailed and degenerated quickly. Tony's grin was wider, and the light in Steve's eyes seemed to be a little brighter. Apparently, the Enquirer had gotten it right this time.

 

* * *

 

In a small diner not too far away, an older man sat, sipping at his coffee, and grinning at the new paper. Seems like they got their shit together after all.


End file.
